Heal A Broken Heart Season 1: Resurrection
by Amethyst-Phoenixx
Summary: Everything began with "Dear Diary...", "First Nightmare...", "First Mistake...", "First Lie...", etc. All cliche things, but when they are used in the lives of two twin Cambions, then they can no longer be regarded as normal. Especially if one of them is a stubborn blue-clad devil whose pride, though broken and trampled, surpasses anything but with one exemption! (OC Warning)
1. Chapter 00: Prologue

_AN: Hello Everyone and welcome to a new fanfiction story of mine. This time, I decided to go with something related to Devil May Cry universe and its wonderful and memorable characters. It's actually a very old story of mine, written almost six years ago and have been editing it till now ^^; Although, it still needs some more correction, but otherwise I am happy with the result. More importantly, I am writing for fun and hope to improve in my English. I would much appreciate your kind and lovely supports and helpful reviews ^_^. So here is the first chapter of the first season of my story. Hope you enjoy it._

 ** _Be aware that the story tells from my OC's POV._**

 _"Dialogues"  
_ _Thoughts  
_ **Another language  
** ** _Inner Demon_**

* * *

 _Disclamation: Devil May Cry and all its characters belong to Capcom. Roxana and her inner Demoness a.k.a Dark Queen belong to Me ^_^_

* * *

 **Prologue**

* * *

Everyone has the right to call the bizarre events occurred in their life as extraordinary or special. I am no exception of that as well, but considering the circumstances I had lived through these past four/five years, I am hesitant to believe that the incidents happened to me- not sure if I could call them extraordinary- but were called uncanny. The word 'special' does not approve to define the situations I got involved with, but surely they were _meant_ to happen for certain reasons.

But why?...

Somehow, when I look back and regard at all that I experienced all those years till now, I can't help but take full responsibility of my actions and their consequences. Call it Karma, but I call it the reflection of your own doings, fair and square. Therefore, I do not complain nor have the right to say I regret some _things_ that I committed. However, most of it was my fault and the scarce sparks commencing the events were out of my power and control; call it fate's play or a siren call. I have faith in God and think he had a very good and accurate reason for all that came to me.

This was the first positive view I had regarding my past, but observing it through realistic eyes, I myself am only to blame for the grief and pain I endured all these years; because of my folly, weakness, naivety, stupidity… _foolishness!_ Yes, because I was and am a Foolish. Human. Girl.

That's what _he_ used to call me often and I began to believe it. It infuriated me at the start, but when I thought about it, I couldn't blame but to give him the right. _He_ was always right… to the point that he managed to be the only _man_ who succeeded to outsmart me. His opposed ideals always clashed with mine and yet, whenever I thought righteousness would be on my side, my own ideals backfired terribly by betraying me cruelly; shattering like a fragile illusion into million pieces that I couldn't patch them together.

Come to think of it, why did I even bother to put the shattered pieces together when they were not real but fake fantasies at the beginning?! Maybe because I was afraid to let _him_ see me broken or defeated against him! Or maybe I never wanted to give him the impressions he has the upper hand over me or feel condescend! Or maybe it was because of my own selfish pride and prejudice!

Sometimes, I was struggling with my emotions and logic to the threshold of madness and wanted nothing but to blame _him_ and get him out of life. But later, I would witness him being _actually_ my source of comfort and relief, my salvation. When I would go to the brink of mental break down, he was there to embrace me, sooth me, and whisper promises of a better future. The least I heard him say when he felt helpless to save my sanity was to tell me a sentence I used to say to _everyone_ :

 _Everything will be all right, you'll see!_

And I believed him… desperately clinging to his words as if my life depended upon (which was merely the ironic truth).

However, I sometimes tell myself that if I hadn't involved myself too deeply and intimately with him, then none of these pains and torments would have haunted me like reapers and vanguards. They plagued my nightmares and dreams, whether awake or asleep, they were there 24/7; the only times I felt at peace, were when he was there with me, speaking to me, distracting me with his alluring eyes and soothing voice. His presence was enough distraction, for he was always quite conspicuous for me.

But nevertheless, I SHOULD HAVE done something before I was lured into this path where I stand now. If I had prevented it, did something to postpone this ambition, then perhaps I had a chance of salvation.

 _But what hindered me from abstaining?_

 _Him?!_

Perhaps or perhaps not! After all, I had heard and merely witnessed the troubles he went through as well, and blaming him for the means that weren't meant for him nor were his real intentions would be unfair.

 _Unfair?!.._.

I can't deny but think of him influential on intentional matters; like when he and I were actually enemies to start. Later we became allies and later…

 _Through war love can bloom as well!_

That's what my father used to say and I kept hearing it occasionally from my friends and close ones every few hundred years. I never believed in the nature of love at all since, I thought it was only a genuine biological explanation of the body which occurs when interacting an item or person that ardently attracts human's attention. The term 'love' was not something I thought I would ever understand. Not that I had any complains, but never imagined I would be victimized in such unexpected, harsh way…

 _Become head over heels for your arch enemy!_

My condition and his were never in good terms for a long time- at least I felt it being a long time, and later, only cease-fire reigned between us. Friendship and sense of mutual kindness was foreign for us both and nor could we manage to bestow it upon one another for it sounded quite preposterous. The least progress we managed in our relationship was to become allies in battle- although even THAT you have blame somebody else for it.

Never in our lives had we imagined or dreamed things would develop so drastically between two opposed people;

 _But as they say, opposites attract, right?_

The sudden flung had both of us startled and flustered at the same time. Our reaction to the discovery was equal and common. I must inform that he was first who could no longer hold his sacrosanct promise to hold his grudge forever for me. Therefore, his persistence in attaining my affection resulted in a long conflict of our heart and logic and one another in person. In the end…

End?...

We still haven't reached it…

If I had the strength and resistance now I have back then, things would have turned out quite differently. More different than how it is now.

Let me tell you the story from the very beginning; a very good place to start…

It all started four years ago with a cliché sentence… it all started with,

 _Dear Diary…_

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 _AN: Yup, it always starts with something c_ _liché, but not all of them end as they always do! Don't forget to write me your kind reviews and thoughts, either positive or negative, they are all warmly welcome. Love ya all ^/^_


	2. Chapter 01: Dear Diary!

_AN: Hello everyone! So sorry for keeping you waiting this long, work and studies, projects, and life got me. I finished revising another chapter and hope you will enjoy it. As said before, I apologize if there are grammatical or dictation errors, I tried to make it better since English is not my first language. I hope you will like it and don't forget that I will anxiously await your reviews. Positive or negative are all welcome. Thank you. ^_^_

 _"Dialogues"  
_ _Thoughts  
_ **Another language  
** ** _Inner Demon_**

* * *

 **Chapter 1: It All Begins With Dear Diary!**

* * *

 _Memory... is the_ _diary that we all carry about with us - Oscar Wilde_

* * *

 _Dear Diary!_

 _13/April/2008_

First and foremost, I would like to record this statement that I had no desire in starting a diary of my own and the whole purpose of this childish yet tactful act shall serve as a maneuver to conceal all invaluable documents gathered till now for personal use in future. Therefore, I will cherish these intellects and investigate the reason as to why things escalated from the level that they did!

So… Um… Where to start? (I have to make it _appear_ as if writing a diary, right? That means I have to act as… myself!)

So listen… or read… as I write…

As for the formal introduction, my name is Roxana; I'm a young teenage girl who is currently busy solving the troubles in different dimensions which my families and friends reside in them. In one of them that has been recently molded by devilish fiends and world-taking maniacs is Devil May Cry. Currently I'm living with my beloved white-haired demon hunting colleague known as Dante at his shop which goes with the same respective name as well. He was kind enough to let me rent one his rooms in return of proper money as deal.

Not that I mind though, 'cause Dante has always got his hands tight when concerned with income and payment. Lady is most at fault, for she lends Dante money in promise of receiving with interest back, and since Dante fails to assemble the original payment prior to his due time, Lady takes advantage and doubles the interest. In short, the Legendary Dark Knight Dante is head stuck in debt to my human devil huntress friend, Lady. (At least Trish behaves more fair!)

It has been two years since I saw Dante for the very first and last time before heading home to Germany to visit my sisters. At that time, I heard of the rise of a tower called Temin-ni-gru in the central of California and headed straight to The States to investigate the call of the demonic tower. My curiosity lead me to meet Dante and Lady for the very first time and we all fought heaven and hell in order to prevent two lunatics to open a diabolical gate and let all hell lose on earth. (Blame Lady's old man, Arkham, for it! That pompous wanted to claim Sparda's powers and become hell's king! Dude, this is not a cosplay show?!)

We were nearly failing to stop him as well, but in the end, Dante managed to handle everything quite perfectly. To be frank, I silently admired his confidence and congratulated his adultery in such young age. After all, at the time when we all were involved in this _ordeal_ , each of us were not more than teenagers;

Not even complete adults! A bunch of kids involved in a huge dramatic adult play to save the world.

Kids... in an adultery show? How ironic!

But true.

I do not know why, but whenever I go back and look at ourselves, our manners and ideals that lead us to step in that fateful path on that damn fateful day, in comparison to our ages, was exaggerating;

Lady was a girl that held the fresh peach blushed countenance of a baby-faced virgin; Dante, the arrogant proud boy who was newly blooming into adolescent; and me, I was a demoness in human disguise that had reached her thirteen's birthday just recently!

(Yes, in real body I was a fresh teen, but thanks to the demoness that lives in me, I have lived for centuries without letting time or place wrinkle my features; just added layer above layer experience on my gradually growing old soul.)

Yes, bunch of kids… but with minds and souls of those with great insight and common sense… almost grownups on our own!

I must add, the whole event was quite unusual as well and most complicated. What I am trying to say is I saw more than just a rise of a tower, the greed of a villain trying to get a supreme power just to play a false god, and a cliché battle between brothers over family possessions;

Brothers?!

(Did I write 'brothers'?)

Yes…

Hmm…

… …

(How I tried to avoid it so tactfully! Guess it was inevitable!) To be honest, beside us, there was another person involved which was actually the main reason that we got involved with the whole ordeal in the first place:

 _Vergil_!

Dante's older brother; the first son of the legendary Dark Knight Sparda, known and famed as the Dark Slayer.

I only had the privilege to meet him when Dante was wounded in their first brotherly duel. We had locked eyes in a heated glare at that time. No words were spoken between us.

Although there was this one time that I had a closer contact with him and that was in the Demon Hall where Vergil merely succeeded in opening the gate by shedding his blood and ended up in a bloody battle with Dante again, before Jester—I mean Arkham—crashed the party. Before the party crasher's arrival, Vergil drew his sword against lady and while the girl was left briefly defenseless on the ground, I blocked his coming attack with my own weapon.

 _"You forced him into this!" I heard Lady shout from behind me as I shielded her._

 _"Is that what you think? Foolish girl!" I never forget that honesty I saw in those frosty orbs as he spoke with a disdainful tone which dripped with hidden mockery at the poor girl._

Even now that I write down these words, chills run down my spine from the charisma and authority I saw him possess.

*sigh* To be frank, from the moment I laid eyes on Vergil, everything about him was _ironically_ off _!_

From previous experience, I used to see the younger sibling being the one—driven by their unbalanced emotions like sibling rivalry, or always being compared, or bested by their older ones, mother's or father's favorite. Etc. –straying from their rightful path and seek power or anything that would make them supreme than their older keen. Usually it ended up for the siblings to fight (cliché!) with them realize and learn from their older brother or sister that their current position is false and need to restart. And then (they lived happily ever after!)

But not with them!

Not between Dante and Vergil!

The _elder one_ was strayed from his path and the _younger one_ had to stop and play the hero. Wasn't older brothers supposed to be good examples for their baby brothers?! Although, I had heard rumors that the twins hadn't seen each other—after a certain demon attack that had happened a decade ago in their past—till the rise of Temin-ni-gru.

The second ironic thing was, with the massive power I saw him possess, I did not see any sheer necessity for him to greed for any more power. A man with such high caliber and in such _young_ age was outstanding! The only reason I assumed such powerful man seeking greater Might is the thought of revenge! But what or whom he wanted to avenge, I still lack to reason. (I would even go as far as to say that Vergil had surpassed Sparda in many levels at that time.)

The third: Vergil knew that his father chose the human world as his _true_ home; however, his elder son opted to stay in the demon world by excusing it being his father's _home_! If he had learned and knew his father _that well_ , then he would have never jumped off that cliff.

Fourth: The most horrible thought and conclusion; all the explained reasons can be easily blamed by anyone for his naivety, youthful pride and arrogance, unbalanced emotions caused by the loss of his beloved family, or even… unbalanced _hormones!_ But here is the truth: Vergil did all he did… ON PORPUSE! Consciously and thoroughly!

This small yet simple knowledge I gained about his character is the worst part, as it lead me to be filled with uncountable questions with no answers on my own. He was the Pandora Box that left the chest exposed so seductively, but took the key of its lock to his grave. In other words, HE shall always remain the answers to my questions.

*Sigh!* … (It can't be helped, eh?)

Quite frankly, after the brothers had their final confrontation in the demon world, Vergil jumped off the cliff, falling into his downfall and later fighting Mundus while in his most vulnerable state. As result, the youth fell under Mundus' command for his failure and turned into his trusted lieutenant, brainwashed and given the name Nelo Angelo.

Both Dante and I learned of this horrible truth by the crimson letter called Trish; a demoness conducted by the Hell King while bearing Eva's face (Dante and Vergil's beautiful human mother.) She informed us about the diabolical plan of Mundus who wanted to open a huge portal in Mallet-Island.

Following the fake Eva to the place, Dante and I went through trials until we managed to defeat Nelo Angelo and learn of his true identity, although it was too late to undo what had been done. What was worse, I assumed that by his defeat, Nelo will break from under Mundus' command and regain his identity, but he vanished through a wave of lost souls and only his other half of the Perfect Amulet dropped behind; leaving the red-cald demon to morn over his brother's death by his hands, coaxing me to shed tears without any reasons!

Raged by the loss of Vergil and Trish afterwards, Dante swore Mundus' ultimate destruction, however, he only managed to imprison him in hell again, indicating the Demon one day's return. When we left the sunken Island, Trish, Dante and I returned to Devil May Cry and continued our demon hunting profession in more ordinary and normal means.

Knowing that maybe things would go just fine for more decades, I left Dante's world to return to my own disasters with my family and siblings. Luck was not on my side as a month later, Dante called for my aid again. Time traveling to his dimension, I was suddenly surprised to encounter a more adult like form of my own (after all, wherever I went, no matter how far in the past, my physical appearance used to change in coordinal as well. It was up to me if I wanted to utilize magic and turn myself into the same physical appearance as I truly was or not.)

Not bothering with my more adult like form, I hurried to the shop and found Trish first, learning of her change as well as the truth about the letter; Trish was the one who sent me the SOS message! The thought of having her do such thing didn't arose my anger, but rather a nuisance worry which gripped my heart in a vice fist. What could have possibly happened to Dante that Trish was forced to commit something so off?

However, she explained to me the situation as soon as I sat by the spoiled and dusty couch on the hall. Her story began when Lady was on the tail of a demon whose catch was supposed to cost her a fortune, but when she reached the outstate regions of a city called Fortuna, weird looking guards prevented her from entering the town and caught the creature before it caused any unnecessary crisis among the citizens.

Aside from the fact that Lady was pissed off and demanded to see the local headmaster of the town to negotiate the demon with an affordable debate, the knights, not even uttering a word, blocked her path with their bulky forms. When Lady fumed and aimed her gun at them, their lances pointed at her with a killing-lust which left Lady with nothing but empty hands.

The poor human huntress could handle five maybe two or five of them, but there were twelve which hovered here and there like vanguards. Not forgetting to mention that Lady lacked intellect of both their weaknesses in destroying them as well as the consequences of meddling with higher knights of a very religious town. She didn't want their Pop to be on her tail for the rest of her life. One holy man with a lunatic mind was enough for the rest of her life.

Followed by this incident, everywhere Lady went, those damn birdmen where along her track too; as if they stalked her all the time. Therefore, she asked Trish to accompany her to the locals in order to commence a serious talk with the head General of those flying gentlemen and settle things out; mainly telling them to stop following Lady and steal away her jobs…(and money of course).

Although, Trish spared me the headache and summarized their attempts to call the higher Men gone futile, something interesting caught the Blond's eyes along the way. Better said, _someone_ which made Trish look back and consider to consulate with me further. A boy which became the spotlight of our later dilemma; a boy whose appearance resembled those of the Sparda Bloodline!

Trish wasn't a woman to jest over such dominant information, but accepting it only through words was a bit distant from me as well. I politely asked my blond colleague to share me the address and she insisted of tagging along as well which I advised her not to. Her face was probably shown to some keen eyes before, thus, her second visit will not be taken warmly. I was a total stranger to the townspeople and no one would bother a normal girl _disguised_ as a tourist to catch a few photos and be on her merry way.

The next day, I hit the road as I had told Trish, borrowing some equipment and tech stuff from Morrison and drove to the destination. Dressed casually in tight blue jeans, a safari hat, and a dark cotton blouse which left my shoulders exposed, I smiled at my appearance. I tell you, when I entered the town with a false ID, I stood there gaping like a fish at the clothes of every individual.

They were covered from head to toe and had a certain scarf looking cover concealing their heads and even faces. I felt in outmost display… (Frankly, start naked in comparison to them -_-). The only people who showed their faces were the noble looking men called The Knights of The Order.

Their main leader, a man in his mid-fresh thirties, with brown hair which reached atop his shoulders and a goatee, approached me with cautious steps. However, an inhuman aura radiated from him which was unusual since humanity reeked from every inch of him. Nevertheless, he glared at me and ordered to dress more appropriately as my appearance is not publicly suited. (In other words I looked like a slut in their eyes.)

Laughing sheepishly I accepted a white hooded garment and wrapped it around myself. Along the entire journey throughout Fortuna one of the new Rockies under the said man's orders escorted me and acted as my tour guide and showed the city around. I yawing every two minutes or so, while the poor youth moved his hands here and there with great enthusiasm dripping from his jolly voice, I pretended excited by squealing and take countless yet anonymous photos every now and then.

I assure you that I have been a cultural study gig, but the non-stop talking and buildings that looks so alike was starting to make me dizzy. Not forgetting to mention the awful heat of the glaring sun that made me melt under that long, thick, heavy, ton of leather that covered me from head to toe in the middle of the burning _summer_! (Seriously, what is wrong with this people?) However, the youth who followed me around like an excited puppy, wriggling his tail every time he heard a good praise, spoke of a name which played an important role in the establishment of this great city:

Sparda!

The Dark Knight once served as the feudal lord of the city long ago, protecting the citizens and meant to gather the innocents or those preyed upon by the demons to give shelter and a home to build their new future. While the population assembled with the matter of time, people began to build homes and constructions while Sparda kept an eye on the outside world in order to prevent any interference with the human's affairs as they built their civilization brick by brick.

He was their Savior, their pioneer, and their new hope. Therefore, after Sparda left the Fortunians to their lives when the last wall around them was built, the people respected the Knight by building a monument for him as well a statue, big and glorious to prey upon him and thank him for his endeavors. The prayers and prejudice believes formed a religion by the elders and soon The Order of The Sword became their sanctuary; young warriors trained as knights to follow the path of the once mighty Sparda and protect their home.

The Walls which surround the entire town said to be blended with a hidden magical barrier Sparda cast to waft off the evil waves of hell. It is still intact for unknown reasons, but it is rumored that if Sparda returns, the magic will exceed once again and a golden wall, higher than the original one will cover the entire Fortuna like an umbrella.

When I asked the youth if such thing ever happened, he said, to my utter surprise… yes!

I swear I gasped when I heard it. However, he said that the visitor was a stranger whose powers matched of that of Sparda's. No one learned of the man's identity except His Holiness who had the privilege to come face to face with the devil.

Fed up with the entire history class, I bid the youth farewell, paid him a good amount and hit the road before that brown haired general found me to interrogate furthermore.

Returning to Enzo, I gave him his items back and after fighting verbally, I returned to Devil May Cry and locked myself in my room to avoid the slightest sound; my ears were buzzing for the rest of the day.

You would be surprised that a few days later, Enzo returned me the photos I took along the trip. I had almost forgotten about them and shrugged them off. The irritated Italian man only cursed in his native tongue and threw the small envelop filled with glossy photos at the ground. When I shut the door at the pompous' face and returned to gathered the spilled papers on the ground, a certain image caught my attentions;

When the Knights were patrolling in the city, beside their elder leader walked a certain young man clad in blue and red. On the shoulder of his trench coat, the same symbol of the Order was embroidered in red, showing him being a member as well, though dressed more casually. But his face was concealed behind another bulky man, but I could spot strings of white around his head.

 _Does he have… white hair?_

 ** _Don't know, but check the other pics, maybe you got a good snap elsewhere?_**

Ransacking the entire envelop, I found one which amazingly was zoomed on his head. To my utter horror, he was gazing dispassionately at the camera, although unaware that I took a sneaky pic from him.

He appeared a youth of not more than in his late teenage times… maybe seventeen to nineteen. With bright torques blue eyes and hair that glowed snow white in the rays. I sat on the ground for hours watching the boy's countenance. His profile displayed great might and an overwhelming pride, raw for his age. But something bugged me about his face…

His eyes!

Those gleaming brilliant orbs were _very_ familiar.

 ** _The boy has obviously inherited the Sparda's bloodline. His face indicates that much._**

Yes, but the question was, how direct was his link to the family?!

… …

… …

I was so afraid to tell Dante about it, but I was sure he won't believe me at all. Nevertheless, Lady's grown impatience had us all on our toes to visit Fortuna (not forgetting Trish's blackmailing) and as result, the Savior thing happened; Sanctus had devised a diabolical plan to let all hell lose in Fortuna to summon Sparda's powers to play hero. But his plan backfired when Dante and his gang (Trish, Lady and me) interrupted his party and had the kid-I mean Nero (the boy I saw in the photo) crash his dreams of becoming a savior.

Along the way, Dante was surprised as much as us when we found the boy, not only inherited the Sparda's powers, but also had his right arm shifted into a Devil's silhouette. That Devil Bringer sure knew how to pack a punch or two and when I evaluated Nero's strength in a small duel, before he confronted Dante for the third time, I realized whose eyes he has…

When Sanctus was defeated and the Sparda's Sword returned to us (blame Trish for its loss in the first place!), the Dante and Nero had one last word together which I observed closely while standing atop one of the remaining walls. Dante entrusted Yamato as "The only kinda gift worth givin'" to the young man, making the kid flustered. Nero protested a little, but when he learned that the old man entrusted it to him willingly (with a lot of sighing and heavy sentences) the kid was left with no choice but to proudly accept the treasured memento.

They bid their farewells with the promise of quick reunion and Dante joined me while we watched the two love birds talking and Nero clearing out the plaza with his new weapon. That was when I decided to break the tense silence with a sigh.

"He sure has your family's blood." We stood together and watched as Nero fought the rest of the demons to protect the songstress.

"Mhm…" The red clad hunter hummed to me in approval.

"And he did retrieve Yamato." I spoke nonchalantly. Dante hummed again. "And the Devil Arm responds to him quite naturally."

"Yeah well… runs through the family alright." He sighed.

"And I think you of all people have recognized those eyes." It was not a question, it was a fact.

When no response came from my right, I locked my arms on my chest while watched the kid finish off the last Scarecrow.

"He got _HIS_ eyes!" A heavy wind blew past us, taking some leaves off the ground and sailing them through the air. Their sound almost muffled the small gasp which escaped the red-clad demon hunter.

Turning toward him, I gazed at his widened blue orbs. "Don't look so surprised, you can recognize your _brother's_ eyes everywhere."

I started walking past him. "What do you mean Roxy?"

"I said… Nero has **_Vergil_** 's eyes."

I caught Dante looking flustered at me from the corner of my eyes. After what felt like eternity, he imitated my move and sighed deeply (for the umpteenth time!) before answering. "Yeah… … So you realized it to huh?" He whispered almost inaudible.

I stole a glance at him. Even if the whole crashed Fortuna was bathed in the sunset, many beautiful and warm lights of red and gold stroke the land like an elegant paintbrush. Their number could match the number of feelings which stirred inside my demon hunting colleague and me; emotions which I hardly could understand or feared to admit in order to assuage the guilt and regret I was feeling. After that day, Dante was never the same…

… …

The very first symptom of his was his expressions; they were more thoughtful or held a scowl unbeknownst even to him. That cheerful and glowing countenance was paling and he grew bags under his eyes. I sometimes wondered whether he lacked sleep or his old age was catching up with him. However, the aura that emitted from him grew chilling and intense, almost making me suffocate for standing near him for too long.

His speeches and jests were no longer there in his communication like before, and he used to swear a lot, get irritated, and even punch the furniture every now and then. His anger was running out of control and he took on missions more seriously; unlike his past-self when he used to slay demons for sports and not for _revenge,_ he slaughtered those hellish fiends with great battle lust!

It grew so bold that even Lady and Trish finally noticed the gradual changes and even once Lady snapped at Dante that resulted in a bloody confrontation, causing the huntress to avoid the shop for a couple of months. It was causing us distress and I even dreaded bringing Patty to the shop any longer; the atmosphere as well as Dante's inappropriate attitude was not healthy nor recommended for a teenage girl like her.

Morrison once suggested bringing Dante to a therapist and letting him being mentally evaluated. Trish and I bit back a bitter chuckle at his words, but the poor man wanted to help, yah? As tempting the offer sounded, but our red-clad demon's condition was not an ordinary one to be discussed with some _ordinary_ therapist. I even questioned whether such person exists or not?!

Regardless, when Lady decided to show her sunny face to the rainy Devil May Cry after 4 and half months, she requested me that I take her debts from Dante and mail them for her. She was more than pissed to forgive the red devil that easily. Trish was also a bit frightened by Dante's unpredictable mood; he was one minute gloomy, the next he was gnashing at the leather of the sofa.

That was it!

I was fed up with all his childish acts and too afraid to leave the girls by his side too. Thus, one day I excused Trish to go shopping with Lady, killing time at the meantime and me, talking some sense into Dante's thick and stubborn skull. It was merely successful; concluding with the desk being cut in half, the juke box destroyed, the left wall torn down, and a part of the kitchen burned. But the nevertheless, fruitful for my friend; Dante realized what had happened to him and apologized for the first time. *phew*

After our confrontation, he insisted to bring Patty here at the shop more and even asked her for education and how her normal life went. We all were content with the care Dante was showing and the gradual improvements he displayed in his work; as if he was healing with the matter of time.

Until…

Nero visited us, quite spontaneously and surprisingly. The moment he entered the shop, Dante took a moment or two to believe his eyes that the kid had dropped by to say hi. His face was priceless but you won't believe it if I say, his smile didn't leave his lips for one second; it was the longest time I'd seen him happy in the past few months.

The youth chatted bashfully with Dante long and patiently, filling him with every single detail of the events that occurred after the Savior incident. And Dante, he listened eagerly as if hearing the most interesting tale in the world. Nero informed us that the Fortunians appreciated their work and the kid was welcomed more openly in public; properly thanked in a Knighthood ceremony and elevated to the title of Head Knight as reward in the Order. (I was sure his deceased step-brother Credo was very proud of him.)

He and Kyrie owned a house and the young songstress cooked warm meals and helped those whose houses were damaged in the battle. Over all, they were doing very well, but the only thing which had turned into a mere issue was the income that Nero hardly got; that he was ungrateful, but with the bills and responsibilities that loaded on the couple's shoulders, Nero wasn't gaining satisfying.

As response, Dante requested for the youth to work with him without a second thought, but Nero (flustered and blushing like mad) politely rejected the invitation and explained his respectable idea;

"I was hoping I could manage a shop of my own, like yours… and start a demon hunting business." The flustered youth scratched the bridge of his nose. My eyes widened slightly by a certain realization while the older demon hunter took a moment to answer.

"So, uh… well, that's great kid, but what does all of this have to do with me?" Dante asked raising an eyebrow in bewilderment.

Nero cleared his throat and looked at me expectantly. I smiled encouraged at him and he nodded in return. "Actually, everyone knows of Devil May Cry here… even my people in Fortuna, yeah? So, I thought it might be cool if I could start a shop with the same name too." Dante blinked a few times, dumbfounded. Nero looked puzzled at the older demon hunter. "Eh, what'cha think old man?"

Watching Dante leaning back in his chair, I giggled and walked up to the due. "What Nero is saying is that, he came here to ask for your consent, allowing him to open a demon hunting shop in Fortuna with the same name; serving as another branch of our demon hunting business as well as starting a job of his own." I looked at the blushing youth who began rubbing the back of his neck with his Devil Bringer. "Am I right Nero?" I cooed, watching as his blush deepened.

"Y-y-yeah… s-so to s-say!" He kept nervous glances at me and I giggled at his bashfulness.

The room was suddenly blown away by loud laughers by the red-clad demon who made us jump out our seats and even Nero's cobalt orbs grew wide in surprise.

"OF COURSE! OF COOUUUURSE!" The older male exclaimed and yelled joyfully. Dante stood from his seat and clapped his hands for the confused youth. "Of course kid. It is a great honor to run this family business." Nero's eyes narrowed suspiciously, making Dante halt with his arms stretched wide to embrace him.

"Family business?!" The youth asked skeptically. I face-palmed!

"He means that now since you wanna start the same occupation as us, it makes us all like a family right?" I advanced the youth and found his torques blue eyes grow warm in relief.

"Family?!" he whispered the word and looked at us, his new family members. "For real?" he chuckled bashfully.

"Sure, now…" Dante strolled to the youth and brought him to his feet. "COME HERE!" the older man embraced the youth and patted him firmly while Nero struggled in his vice grip, coughing and chuckling at the same time.

"Thanks old man." He patted him in return. Dante withdrew and ruffled the snow white hair of the young hunter who scowled and grunted in response. I even gave Nero a firm yet gentle handshake which resulted in (accidently) feeling his warm Devil Bringer. Nero realized the sudden odd situation and I held his hand in both of my own and assured him of how honored I was to hold the hand which defeated the evil and became the hero of the day. Nero flushed this time for sure, making me laugh.

A few weeks after our consultation and Nero busy with the basic preparations, he managed to run his job after a month of hard work and start earning some money. Every now and then either me or Dante send the couple in Fortuna additional gifts as part of the whole income as well and the kid never complaint. They used to spend respectable regards in return.

For a long time, Dante was happy as before, making us relieved and thank God in heavens for sending Nero to enlighten him. However, it was short lived. Dante began to be plagued by nightmares, sending him to the brink of insanity. He became more autotrophic, never talked about the pain and torment he endured.

Even now, he is still the son of the Legendary Dark Knight Sparda, a legend himself. Some even believe he had surpassed his father in many ways. He is admired and feared in both human and demon world, but no one knows what trial he is passing. The flaming fires within this extraordinary man's heart that once burnt everything in his path, or warmed anyone's frozen heart is gradually diminishing, leaving nothing from those flames except candle light.

Every day I am looking into his sky blue eyes, witnessing how that little light struggles to remain aflame. I have started to fear looking at him anymore, dreading to find that light died out the next day I wake up. I know the small flame would not go that easily, because Dante is a fighter and in his essence 'giving up' is not even there to begin with. But at the same time, the feelings of regret and turmoil are eating him alive.

Dear Diary, we are failing to find any means to brighten his mood, to save that flame, making it go back into those alluring fire which warmed our hearth. Dante is currently living like a corpse among us. He is dying with the matter of time and we are helplessly watching. There must be something we can do! We HAVE to… before it is too late.

…Too late?!

… …

*signature*

 _Roxana_

I closed the little notebook with a heavy sigh, putting it alongside the pinball pen aside and gazed at the window, watching as the half-moon cascaded its silver light inside my room, from the bed to the legs of the chair which I sat on. The midnight sky was clear and some stars every now and then winked at me.

The sudden heaviness in my heart made me sigh again, finding my breath coming out shakily, tickling my dried throat. I bit back a cough and gave my so-called diary one last look before standing up and walking to the curtain drawn window. The hardwood floor beneath my feet creaked with every step, almost echoing in the semi vacant room.

After all, the only furniture that decorated the place was a medium closet, a tall vanity mirror, a drawer, a nightstand and a bed; simple, yet sufficient enough to suit my convenience. In fact, this was the only room that Dante let me rent it. The upper floor of the shop contains a narrow hall, but wide enough to have two people walk shoulder by shoulder at the same time. On each side resides two rooms: Dante's and the extra bedroom—which currently I am occupying—are on the right while another extra room alongside a second bath and toilet are on the left.

The surprising thing is, the room on the left is locked. It was always locked and I never got the second to ask Dante about it, but once Patty, while busy doing the chores and cleaning up the place, found Dante in the room and made her way inside when the red devil stopped her abruptly and nudged her out, closing and locking the door behind him. With patties protests, Dante let a name slip out which the young girl didn't recognize.

Yesterday, when I was struggling with the handle again, I found her watching with a scowl.

 _"Don't bother! It's locked." She puffed her cheeks while two hands rested on her small hip._

 _"I know it's locked but whose room is it that Dante insists to keep the cat inside?" I tried to roll the doorknob again and even shook the door, but found the rattling of its lock and sounds of whining wood yelling at me to stop._

 _"I even asked Dante, but he didn't tell me who he is?"_

 _Wait a minute!_

 _I stopped with fight with the lifeless piece of wood and looked at a pouting Patty with a frown._

 _"What do you mean_ _ **he**_ _?"_

 _She locked her hands on her chest and scoffed loudly. "Yeah, he! I mean, who the hell is Vergil-" My eyes widened in horror. "-That Dante refuses to tell me? Is that even a guy's name or is Dante just messing around by covering a girl's name he has in his life?"_

 _My hand slipped off the golden knob and I watched there gaping life a fish while Patty kept on whining. My eyes gradually fell on the mahogany door, watching it nonchalantly before a burning hatred set my whole body aflame._

My brows frowned in reminisce at the moment I realized what has caused the change in Dante from the beginning.

 ** _Vergil!_**

Yes, Vergil! the man who attempted to spread Hell on Earth, killed his brother multiple times, and when he failed to it while alive, he continued his torments after his death. This heartless monster has been the main reason why Dante was plagued by nightmares, bent and lowered his guard, and is mourning till his strength leaves him.

Vergil is sucking his own brother's life stream out of him, getting his revenge. I have never seen anyone so cruel and vile. Sparda must be very disappointed at his eldest son! I am sorry in his place.

 ** _The guy was freaking out of his mind!_**

 _If anything happens to Dante, I will search heaven and hell to find Vergil and kill him again._

 ** _Whoa! Easy there! I know your upset, but that tempting pillow over there gonna be more upset if you don't join it._**

Turning my head toward the alarm clock on the night stand, it showed half past one after midnight. My eyelids were shaking for sleep as well and I didn't fight them any longer. Stealing one last glance at the glowing half spear the sky, I languidly started for bed and went under the cool mattresses.

"Good night!" I said to my inner demoness.

 ** _Night night. OH! By the way…_**

"What?"

 ** _Didn't you realize, you didn't see HIS illusion, phantasm, or even any signs from him at all._**

I grunted at the reminder. What she implicated was that after the Fortuna incident, just as Dante was plagued with nightmares, I was _haunted_ by Vergil 24/7. I used to see a blurry image of him, beckoning for me to enter places or gave me signs or clues of where he last was or help me figure things out.

Later on, whenever or wherever I found his trace, his vague image, or heard his distant voice, a small blue rose was remained in his afterimage. A rose of the color of burning blue, a color not even compared to gold in value.

In Fortuna, they called them Moon Roses and were meant to bloom only on full moon. However, I had seen Moon Roses before and their color was lighter than these. Their sweet scent is intoxicating, their color seductive and their presence speaks of peril. Indeed, Vergil was a dangerous man, powerful and cruelly smart enough to be feared.

"Remind me to write this piece of info too. That monster-" I reached the inside of my collar. "-Should not be underestimated. If Dante hadn't gave this to me, I would have been immune to Vergil's damn haunting." Pulling out the memento, I gazed at the other Perfect Half of The Amulet; the one with the golden chain which Vergil had around his neck the last time I saw him before jumping off the cliff.

 ** _Hey! You are being paranoid! What does a pendant have to do with those hallucinations and visions you get from him?_**

"You are forgetting it is _Vergil_ we are speaking about, not forgetting to mention what he truly is capable of." The red colored gem gleamed in the white light, appearing as if a drop of blood—Vergil's blood—was frozen like a little diamond inside the heart of the gem.

 _Although I won't be surprised if it is real!_

 ** _What? What is it real?_**

"Nothing." The demoness whined like a child. Putting it back inside my collar, I found the cold jewel glide down my neck, past my collarbones and slip in between my bosom. The chill of it contrasting with the burning skin on my chest gave me goosebumps. "I hope that damn Dark Slayer would be wise enough as to not bother me with my sleep."

 ** _You still have that grudge? It will give you wrinkles!_**

I growled inhumanly. Grudge? Yes. I _abhor_ that man with every of my fiber. Though, Vergil helped or teased my mentality with his continuous ghost play, but because of his evil deeds and how badly he hurt Dante, I hate him to no end.

Turning toward the still glowing moon, my eyelids began to grow heavy. The half spear blurred in and out till it hid behind dark curtains. When sleep consumed me, I never thought it would return again:

 _My First Nightmare!_

* * *

 _AN: Phew, managed this chapter. Do forgive me if it takes long, but I will try on the quality than the quantity, thus, be patient with me and hope you enjoy my writings. Reviews and comments are quite welcome and wish you a great day Mina-san!_

 _Disclamation: Devil May Cry and all its characters belong to Capcom. Roxana and her inner Demoness a.k.a Dark Queen belong to Me ^_^_


	3. Chapter 02: First Nightmare!

_AN: Hello Everyone! Happy Holidays! ^_^! The spell upon this story is broken and finally finished revising it. I appreciate that you all have been reading it, commenting it an wrote me reviews upon it. In the next couple of weeks my university will start and so I will be heavily busy - although when you're forced to focus on studies, you heart becomes more ambitious to rebel and do other stuff ^^;. However, I know my stories have still not improved, but I am going to write only for fun and practice. Therefore, if you find it interesting for a slight bit, I will feel content and appreciate to hear your opinions through words, if you like. Anyway, here goes with another chapter and hope you enjoy it._

 _P.S. Finished editing this chapter into a better version._

"Dialogue"  
 _Thoughts  
_ ** _Inner Demon/ Voice  
_** **Another language**

* * *

 **Chapter 2: It All Begins With The First Nightmare!**

* * *

 _Do you know the terror of he who falls asleep? To the very toes he is terrified, Because the ground gives away under him, and the dream begins… -Fredrick Nietzsche_

* * *

I was running in a dark corridor; darker than my eyes could see. The sound of my thundering footsteps and loud frantic panting echoed in the vacant place. My eyes could barely make out of the foreign surrounding, the silhouettes of objects, thus, I kept hitting different obstacles unknown to me. The pain was real but not quite severe to cause serious damage. At least, I hoped it didn't. In addition, the fear I felt resulted in adrenaline being pumped into my veins, making aches barely noticeable.

 _I'm in a nightmare… …again!_

Even though my logic turned the wheels inside my fuzzy head on and demanded to stop to analyze the situation, my body was not in agreement with my brain; it kept on running as if derived by my human instinct for survival.

 _But from what am I so desperately running away?_

As if the darkness could read my mind, the sudden sounds of clinging steel and inhuman moans reached my ears, followed by the grotesque stench of sulfur and burnt Hell.

 _Demons?!_

Those foul creatures were after me like every other night. It had grown routine to have them tainting my dreams with blood and darkness, molding my peaceful mind with heart-wrenching images of torn bodies and screaming corpses.

 _And like every other time, I am helpless to fight the… running off like a little coward that I am._

 ** _IDIOT! You have to before they catch you!_**

The sound of my inner demoness exclaiming brought me back from reverie. It actually encouraged me to try save my life.

Turning to a corner, I glanced back and realized the pace between us had grown drastically small, feeling the coming scythe missing me by the end of my lose hair.

 _Damn! That was close!_

Stumbling in my way a few times, I finally managed to see a rotten green door before me. Feeling my body grow weary, I mustered the last ounce of my strength and increased my speed, though easier said than done. Regardless being a demon or human in reality, you remain naked to the truth about your essence inside the dream world: you are nothing but a _mortal_!

This said, one can easily conclude that it's nothing different than being a human being; weak, vulnerable to exhaustion, defenseless against greater threads and inferior towards fatalities. My lungs burnt from excessive inhales and panting. The muscles of my legs throbbed painfully and my feet felt heavy. My side ached and I was feeling my body getting drained from energy.

Another sharp scream reached my ears and my train of thoughts was broken.

 ** _Hurryyyy!_**

Reaching with a trembling hand for the door, I almost snapped the handle off its place and jumped out of the facility. The fresh cool night air welcomed me in its embrace. When I was about to turn around toward the still closed door, it burst out of its locks and a sea of demons burst out.

"Shoot!" I jumped a few feet away even though my legs wobbled beneath me.

" ** _Human! Pure…. Human!"_** Their voluptuous inhuman voice molded the night.

Turning around, I came face to face with a Lust. Not taking my eyes of it to see where its attack might land, I mistook my footing and felt the ground beneath me vanish.

No. I overstepped the edge of the building's roof. A gust of hard wind started to course upward as I let out a surprised shriek. The wind rushed through my hair, my limb arms, sweat soaked clothes, my whole being. It was cold and felt like whips at my throbbing skin.

Another scream escaped me when I saw those damn demons jump right after me. "WHAT?"

 ** _DAMN!_**

My eyes widened in mortification; those bastards were closing in onto me with a deadly speed.

" ** _Human!... Fresh Humaaaaaan!_** "

 _I can't let them have me!_

The Lust's eyes glowed with animosity and wanton need.

 _I can't die while have them eat my soul._

Their weapons neighed ever so closer to me. Their skeleton arms rose up, steel ready to pierce my skin.

 _I WON'T LET YOU!_

Their death scythe gleamed hungrily in the pale moonlight.

I closed eyes and…

 ** _Devil Trigger!_**

Jolting up with a yelp, I clutched my chest tightly while power surged through my veins. It feels worse than you think. Your blood pressure increases suddenly, your heart rate goes up, and you feel your mind is going to explode from immense pressure.

The chase was over, but the aftermath lingered on my body. The ache in my feet, the pain and soreness in my muscles, and my pounding heart were proof of that.

"Damn!" I narrowed my brows, a drop of sweat rolled gently down my temple.

 _After all this time!_

Snapping my eyes tightly closed, I fought the growl which threatened to escape my throat by the wrecked state I was.

 ** _Nightmares again, huh?_**

Inhaling deeply, I loosen the grip on my chest. "Yeah."

 ** _…It got worse._**

"Worse or _worst?"_ I wiped the sweat with the back of my hand. I felt her grimace.

 ** _Yeah well, you got to trigger back._**

Moonlight infiltrated the room and casted a light blanket on my body. Long red nails, pale skin, longer limbs and strings of fiery red hair came into view. I sighed almost defeated before focusing on my energy. Even the attempt to switch between silhouettes was difficult now. Returning to my human flesh, I wiped the fresh beads of sweat off my temples. When I cleared my throat, I coughed at how dry my throat had become.

 ** _Maybe a glass of water might help. Come on, freshen up a bit, lass._**

"You're right." I choked nearly.

Twisting my legs to the edge of the bed, I slide off the mattresses. My bare feet connected with the cold hard floor, sending a shiver down my spine. I almost hissed when needles began to poke into my muscles. My limbs refused obeying.

 _I need to move. Come on now… MOVE!_

Finished conflicting with myself physically, I pushed myself away from the warm, soft bed and walked toward the door. A sudden crack in my back made me groan in response.

"Remind me to exercise tomorrow."

 ** _Sport ist Mord!_** I giggled.

I took my blue shawl and wrapped it around my bare shoulders to conceal any exposed skin on my arms and cleavage. I stepped outside and made myself downstairs, heading toward the kitchen. I was only in my dark tank top and cotton long pants which clung to my body more than to my comfort due to my sweating.

"I wonder if they have anything to do with _him_?"

 ** _Don't you think you are getting paranoid?_**

 _The last time you said that, you were proven wrong._

Dante's fridge is always filled with more than just tomato juices, strawberry jams and some unknown beverages. Either Trish or I keep concealing the spiked drinks to avoid having unnecessary accidents around the shop, especially when Patty is around. She is still underage. However, there are times when the Devil Hunter dares to put two or three beers in the fridge when no one's watching. I lazily grabbed a water bottle and finished it in one go. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

 ** _Sheesh! Don't you have modesty? Use a napkin for once._**

 **"** Shut up!"

I went to the sink and splashed some cold water into my face. I dried myself with a few napkins and ran the damp tissues down my neck and cleavage. I instantly felt better.

 ** _Now that you're done, let's head to bed._**

I nodded. When I headed for the spiral stairs, I unconsciously looked around the shop. From the dirt covered couch to the old antique jukebox and the still billiard table which rested on the corner. A deep sigh escaped my lips.

"This place needs a cleaning alright."

 ** _Do you want me to add it to your tomorrow's schedule as well?_**

I heard her snicker. Where she gets the puns is unknown to me.

From the corner of my eyes, a dim glow caught my attentions. Turning toward its direction, I came face to face with Master Sparda's sword which rested against the wall. The pair of gems glowed in the blue tinted place, giving it an eerie aura.

I sighed at the melancholy feeling it gave me.

"Master Sparda, I wish you were here to tell me what I must do. I feel confused and lost." Exhausted, emotionally and physically. Was it selfish of me to state my concerns?

Dante's somber status was not improving the least. The demons had grown scarce and jobs rare to find. Rare jobs meant rare income and more bills to pay since they were always there. My nightmares were getting worse and drained me of much energy as they could. All this impacted my sense and logic. Even thinking was getting tiresome for me.

A frown knitted my brows together. Maybe I was complaining too early, or I was whining like a little child who has given up so easily. But with all these bitter thoughts aside, was there anything I could have done in the first place to prevent these ordeals? Was there anything more I could have done for Dante?

The ruby orb on my chest glowed, matching the one which nestled amidst the sword's body. My hand went up to the object resting on my bosom, Vergil's Half of The Perfect Amulet. I often forgot it is there, following me anywhere I go—blame Dante for this though.

I take a sharp inhale, but before I let my breath out, I hold it for a few seconds. A strange fragrant filled my nostrils. It was so sweet and intoxicating. It almost matched the blue blushed room, giving it a seductive sensation. I begin sniffing the air and the more I breathe the more it coaxes me to take it. Such rich scent, raw, sweet and strong.

 _Moon Roses?!_

 ** _THAT scent again?_**

A sudden metallic sound caught my attentions. Taking a sharp turn toward the spiral stairs, I observe with sharp senses. There is nothing there! Must have been my imagination or the sudden temperature had caused the metals to spasm in response. I take one final look at the silent Sword before heading toward the stairs.

The moment I ascended the final step, the fragment vanished into thin air. Moonlight filled the narrow corridor through the front window mounted on the wall. "That's strange!" How did the scent diminish so fast? I couldn't help but survey the place keenly.

 ** _No one's here, lass. Stop being so paranoid! I may be wrong but this shop is starting to become like a haunted house?_**

 _I won't be much surprised if it does._

Suddenly, a loud gasp escaped my lips.

 ** _Oh no!_**

Right before me, a few steps to the right, I caught glimpse of the tail of a fabric which flew in through the slightly ajar door. Even though it happened so quick and in the semi-dark corridor, but the color of the fabric was unmistakably a royal blue.

 ** _Yup, welcome to Devil May Cry Haunted Shop!_**

 _Damn that half-bred!_

I swore the door was closed when I came out of my room the first place. My heart rate picked up drastically. This was not happening!

 ** _Ah Come on! It is ridiculous to think Vergil's ghost has opened the door and walked inside—_**

 _-Inside Dante's room?_

Fear crept up my whole being. It was no secret that Vergil had attempted to kill Dante multiple times, and the thought of his spirit coming back for revenge brought a whole new level of fright. That monster was not foreign to violence and death. If he intended to finish his job and kill his brother even after death didn't sound too bizarre as well.

I hurried toward the door and looked frantically for any unusual or paranormal presence in the room. To my surprise, there were none. No supernatural presence, no demons, no nothing. Only a man with hunched shoulders who stood by the window. His white hair gleamed under the moonlight.

 _Dante?!_

I had never seen his shoulder sink so low. He looked so defeated, tired, sad. It really broke my heart to see him like this.

He was still in his black and red combat jeans. He hadn't bothered changing into his pajamas before heading to bed. His bare back faced me and his shoulders rose and fell with heavy breaths. Shadows casted over strong muscles he had gained during years of my absence. If only I was there to support him.

After the incident of Temin-Ni-Gru, I left Dante's world only for six months, but it felt like six years had past.

 ** _More like six decades._** The demoness exaggerated. **_Why is he still up at this time of night anyway?_**

"Yeah, I couldn't sleep…" The tired and masculine voice of my demon hunting colleague broke through the dead silence. The answer came very unusual as if he heard the demoness' voice. I guessed he already realized my presence. Smiling, I was about to enter the room when his voice whispered a name I never thought I would hear him say again.

"Vergil."

Like the cold winds of monsoon my blood froze. I felt pathetic, letting myself being manipulated by a mere phantasm that had no further existence in reality. Whenever his name was mentioned, I always got chills, and I could barely hear him laugh for his sadistic attitude. While Dante was warm as the sun, Vergil was cold and ruthless as the artic storms.

 _In the end, I suspect Vergil envied Dante's burning fire. The liveliness he had, the passion he showed for living and fighting. Is this why you came back to seek revenge? Are you enjoying the pain and suffering you inflict on Dante? Vergil, you are such sadist!_

 ** _Hey, chill out will you! You're crossing the line with those venomous thoughts. I mean, no brother would do such horrible thing to his own flesh and blood, right?_**

 _As you said… 'brother'. That man was nothing but a MONSTER!_

"Verge, I don't know if ya hear me or not… It has been more than… …thirty years since I last saw you." Dante sighed.

Thirty years were quit long. In words it is easy to mention but hard to live them.

"Well bro, I am still stuck in this damn hell hole, hunting demons, paying bills, and handling a few women who make me wish there was somewhere else to be." His voice cracked into a chuckle.

 _Yeah, you have it rough with us my friend. I won't deny it._

 **"** What'cha doing, bro? Enjoying tea with old man and watching me from above with mom?"

I turned my head toward him with a frown.

 _Who said that Vergil went to heaven after WHAT he did?!_

"I mean, man… … What the hell happened? Even when I think about it now, I can't make sense of any of the sh*t you showed back then. You were Vergil. My older brother. Sparda's oldest son. The Dark Slayer. Letting some freakin' evil like Mundus control you?! That's just crap, man!"

I heard a sniff. My eyes widened at him.

 _Is he sobbing?_

"Why did you jump off like that? We could have taken that douchbag together and kicked him back to hell."

Ah, the memories of his youth. Quite frankly, even I wondered what Vergil's true agenda was that made him jump off that cliff into the pits of hell. Was he really aware of Mundus' existence? Did he actually think he could defeat him just like their father? Unfortunately, his plans were miscalculated and backfired in the end. Even if Dante had followed his brother to fight off that Satan, both would have ended up locked in hell instead the other way around.

 _Both of you were too raw and weak to handle that maniac._

Based on Sparda's diary, he too was still under Mundus' service when he was in his sons' age. It took him millennia to understand his own brother and gain the strength to fight him with all of Mundus' capriciousness.

"Why did you leave me alone?" Dante sobbed again, this time louder. "At least, tell me what you want? Don't just disappear when I am running to you. Don't keep your back to me when I call you."

I wasn't aware that Vergil was plaguing Dante's dreams too. The poor red devil didn't even mention a word about this to any of us, enduring all the agony by himself. He kept on a brave face that none of us girls doubted to saw how severely he was bleeding from the inside.

"Are you punishing me for not visiting you today? Sorry man. I promise I will come as soon as possible."

 ** _On one hand Dante says he hadn't seen Vergil for more than three decades while on the other he promises to visit him. That doesn't make any—_**

 _Don't tell me that today was… Vergil's anniversary?!_

 ** _…Oh Shoot!_**

A shaky breath reached my ears. Dante's broad and strong shoulders were shaking. He was crying.

The tall man before me was no longer that cheerful, sunny youth I met some time ago. In him burned a certain fire that melted anyone's heart by first glance. His will to survive was so strong that even enlightened hope in those around him. He was so tough, stubborn and resolute that I put faith nothing could threaten or weaken his will, but alas. He became nothing but a mere shadow of his once former self; a small candle which was fading away day by day. I idly thought how much time is left before the flame fully diminishes. It was unbelievable to witness how much Vergil's absence had affected Dante's life.

"At least, you're with mom and dad. Lucky you!" A warm chuckle lightened up the room. "I guess now you got mom's attention more, huh? By the way, about dad… um ... … prank the old man for me will ya, bro?" heartwarming laughers were heard. "I love you brother."

My heart skipped at those words. Love?!

 ** _As they say, no power is stronger than the mighty love. That's explains…_**

 _Dante still… LOVES Vergil?_

 ** _Hey hey hey, What's gotten into you?_**

 _Even though Vergil tried to kill him multiple times?_

 ** _Hello! Earth to Roxana! Are you listening?_**

 _Vergil and LOVE?!_

 ** _SNAP OUT OF IT WILL YA?_**

 _ENOUGH!_

For reasons only known to myself, anger consumed me entirely. I opened the door more and leaned against the doorframe with arms crossed on my chest in a heated manner, and one foot locked behind my other ankle. A foul glare plastered on my visage.

Dante rubbed the back of his neck before languidly turned around. His tired eyes immediately landed on me. Those sky blue gems widen slightly, filled with shame and guilt. He knew I finally learned of his secret. Now that the cat was out of the bag, it was time for him to speak. My conspicuous glare demanded him.

Rubbing the back of his neck more, Dante sighed before searching the ground with those pair troubled orbs for a reasonable explanation.

 _Are you finally going to stop running away from me like a child caught in an act of crime?_

His lips curled upwards in a lopsided smirk. "How long—"

"—Long enough to hear you speak with that detesting brother of yours." I was honestly eavesdropping but I was too angry to let my embracement resurface for such trivial act.

Dante's smirk fell when he heard my answer and was not so pleased with the harshness of my tone. Was he expecting some soothing words after all this? He had brought it upon himself by letting Vergil burning his soul from the inside like acid, tearing viciously at his heart and leaving him bleeding.

He walked to the twin sized bed full of disheveled mattresses and pillows. The box sunk under Dante's pressure when he sat, and the bed's whines echoed in the room. The devil hunter buried his face into his hands for a while.

I leaned away from the doorframe and advanced. His long fingers ran through shining silver strings anxiously before rubbing the stiff muscles on the back of his neck. His palms came down his stubbles on either side of his face.

"How long have you been dreaming of him?" Dante was so deep in thoughts that he flinched when I spoke, even though I kept my voice low and even. My eyes soften and fill with concern.

The sound of crickets molested the silent air. Moonlight pierced through the window again and landed on the silent man.

"Nightmares." It took me a moment to realize what he said. Looking at me with those tired eyes, Dante dropped his hands to make his voice more audible. "I don't only dream about him but get nightmares too."

I unclasped my arms and cautiously advanced him. "And you didn't bother telling any of us?" It was more a statement rather than a query.

Dante didn't bother answering. Instead, he looked sideways and motioned for me to sit beside him by tapping gently on the mattress. It seemed like conversing had grown difficult for him.

Sitting beside my colleague closely, I felt the bed sink deeper with my weight accumulating his immense one. So close that I felt heat radiating from his exposed skin – blame him for sleeping shirtless even in the most mind numbing winter. I almost felt no need for the shawl I had kept wrapping around me.

I gazed at him for a long time but he refused to make eyes contact. Dante kept staring at the wooden ground with a plain expression.

 _Talk to me, please! Let me hear you Dante! I will neither blame nor judge you. I need to hear you so I can help you._

Resting my cold hand on his bare back, Dante flinched again. This time hard enough that made me withdraw my hand out of reflex and concern. As if my touch burnt him unintentionally. He faced me with mortified eyes. His breathing heaved and a sheen of cold sweat covered his complexion.

Fear gripped my heart tightly. Without thinking, I cupped his face. His heated face contradicted with my frozen fingertips. I fought hard not to gasp at the sudden realization. He was burning, he had a fever! It took Dante a while before he closed his eyes and sighed in what seemed like contentment.

"That feels so damn good!" He purred while nuzzling more into my palms. His right hand joined mine and pressed it harder into his skin, making me feel the slight graze his stubbles.

"No, it feels great!" I couldn't help but beam at his innocent remark.

"It feels good because you have a fever. That's what you get for wandering around shirtless all the time. Silly Devil!" His chest rumbled with warm chuckles.

"A silly but charming Devil, don'cha think?" I laughed at him.

 _How long has it been since I last saw you smile and laugh so carefree?_

"You better stay here till I get you a nice bowl of cold water and—" I was about to stand when Dante grabbed my wrist and pulled slightly.

Whirling my head to him, his eyes nearly begged me not to leave him. It stirred my sickening worry tenfold.

"Dante?"

"Stay! P-please!" His voice cracked a little. My heart clenched in my chest.

His pale dried lips trembled for a second when he attempted to speak, but quickly closed them again. His gleaming blue orbs were evidence of a wild storm which went inside his heart.

 ** _Gal, I think he—_**

In a blink of an eye we were both sent flying on the disordered bed with Dante crushing me beneath him. His weight pinned me to the mattress with no place to escape. He burst his face into my neck and wrapped his strong arms tightly around my waist in a vice grip. His shoulders trembled vehemently.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I stormed my fingers into his already disheveled hair. I held him close and tightly enough as to not let his broken pieces fall apart. He clung to me as if his life depended upon. I messaged those stiff muscles to the best of my ability and whispered soothingly into his ears, but did nothing to make his shaking subside. On the contrary, his sobs grew louder.

I looked out of the window toward the moon which shone upon us. The light covered our bodies in its own gentle embrace, sharing its own fair share of comfort. Dante was not a man to show weakness, but that night, the famous Devil Hunter became that little boy who saw his mother and brother taken away by demons. The reminder of his great loss made him do what he had long forgotten. Something he hadn't done since he left Mundus' chamber when he held Trish's lifeless body in his shaking arms.

He cried.

* * *

 _AN: I could guess that Dante was depressed after he fought against his brother and left off hunting on his own. Nero's sudden presence didn't help but worsen his condition, especially when he learned the kid having his brother's eyes and fighting spirits. I had my own assumptions as well, but when Devil May Cry Deadly Fortune Novel came out, my suspicions were confirmed. Although the book was later argued to be non-canon, but the character's emotions and slight background story still fit with the original plot.  
_

 _Anyway, I hope you enjoyed another chapter and write me reviews if you like, and Happy Holidays everyone!_

 _Disclamation: Devil May Cry and all its characters belong to Capcom. Roxana and her inner demoness a.k.a. the Dark Queen belong to Me ^_^_


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